Remember You
by Magick
Summary: just a short lil fic, pretty sad, I have no idea where the idea came from. basically it's duo's reaction to a friend's death


Disclaimer: I dont own Gundam wing, it belongs to Sotsu and Sunrise, ect  
  
  
Magic: well, if you havent guessed, im back to writing angst, and I have no idea where this came from!!  
Duo: you are sick, and twisted  
Ken: at least you didn't die  
Duo: no, but damn near!  
  
@_@ () --anime sweatdrop--   
  
  
  
  
  
Duo bebopped around his room, the music turned up as loud as it would go. It had been ages since he had been able to let lose without anyone else around to make fun of him, and even though it never showed, those harsh words cut deep. His braid flying around like it had an entity all it's own, as Duo finally took of his joker's mask, and actually laughed, a true laugh that rang loud and clear. A broom in one hand, and the speakers blasting, he was having an awesome afternoon, despite the grueling task of having to clean the apartment.   
  
He was singing along with the blasting music, he almost missed the ringing of the phone in the corner of the room, but, luckily, he did hear it, and shut off the music before answering the vid phone. The sight that greeted him took his good mood, and dashed it into a million pieces on the ground, no matter where he steped, the little shards would stab. Quatre was on the other end, a bloody gash down one side of his face, and the beginnings of a black eye marred his pale skin. His eyes were wide, and red, as though he had been crying.  
  
"Duo, please, you have o come to the hospital...Heero....we couldn't stop him.." he arabian said in a broken voice, as he broke down into hysterical sobbing. The image was replaced by the ever-quiet, calm Trowa. "It's Heero." was all he said, but it was enough to send the braided pilot running for the door. He grabbed his leather jacket off the hook, and the set of keys into the pocket, rushing for the door with all the courage he could muster.  
  
Th waiting room was unnervingly quiet, and smelled of medicine and death,, a sharp, acrid smell that made you think only the worst. Quatre sat, his knees pulled up to his chest, sobbing into his hands, and Trowa sat quietly beside him, when Duo came tearing around the corner at full speed. "What happened?!?!" he gasped, out of breath. This sent Quatre into a new fit of tears, which left Trowa, again, to do the speaking. "There was a problem, with the mission." was all he said, and pointed to the door in front of him, the one that boldly read  
MORGUE  
  
Duo collapsed into one of the hard waiting room chairs, as he stared at the sign with a numbed expression. "Morgue..." he repeated a few times softly, as he tried to comprehend what they were trying to tell him. Quatre pulled himself together and sat beside his best friend, laying his hand over the shocked boy's. "Duo, we tried our hardest." Quatre said, and, in his pain, he never noticed how cold Duo's hand had become. His usually lively and animated face was ashen, his eyes bereft of that violet twinkle.   
  
The funeral was held the next day, and Duo haden't changed one bit, he had not eaten since he heard the news, he had not laughed, he had not even smiled, or spoken one word. The ceremony was painfully short, and the coffin was closed, strewn with a few flowers. "Duo, are you coming?" Quatre said in a voice barely above a whisper. Duo just shook his head, and waved his fellow pilots to go, which they did after a moments hesitation.  
  
Pilot 01  
fought for freedom  
  
That was all the headstone read, Duo hated it. "It's not you Heero.. you might have been cold, but you weren't JUST a pilot, you had a life that you gave up for THEM!!" Duo anguished voice raised to near a yell. "You CAN'T be gone!" he yelled, raking at the freshly turned soil with his hands. "You can't...you were the best...you can't..." he held his dirthands to his face, his tears smudging tracks of mud down his gaunt cheeks. "You PROMISED ME you WOULDN'T DIE!!!" he screamed, the tears coursing down his cheeks in rivers.   
  
A sardonic smile crossed his face briefly, and he looked down at the grave, wiping the mud and tears from his face with the sleeve of his shirt. The summer sun beat down over the boy, still crouched by his best friend's grave. "No more.." he said quietly, laughing a bit, but not a real laugh, just a twisted mockery of the joyous sound a laugh truly is. Duo reached behind his neck, and grabbed the chain of his crucifix tightly, tearing it from his neck with the sharp SNAP of the gold links. "If there was a God, he wouldn't let this sort of thing happen." he said in a soft voice, flinging the necklace away, until he sould no longer see it in the setting sun.  
  
The world was washed in reds and oranges and golds, like a macabre painting, mocking the dark pain Duo felt in his heart, he reached into his bag, pulling out a long, wickedly sharp knife. Instantly recongizable as the one Heero had always carried. "You always did hate my hair, Heero..." he said, the slightly manic smile on his face, and he reached for the thick, silky rope of chestnut hair. "Maybe you never could in life, but I'll be damned it you can't after dead." His breath caught in his throat, as he severed the braid, and it fell with a soft thud to the grass below.   
  
"I'm nothing without you, but you'd not want me to tale take the cheap way out. You never stopped fighting, Heero, and I'll live everyday in the memory of that strength. You might never had been proud of me, but I will make you proud, and earn my place in Heaven. But, if for some chance you are conversing with Satan himself at this very moment, I'll give up that place in heaven, to join you in Hell. Heero, you were my best friend, and I'm not letting myself forget." Duo wrapped the heavy plait of hair around the tombstone, gingerly touching the rough, short, jagged edges of his hair. "Bye Heero..." he said, and stood, brushing off his dark slacks.  
  
And so he walked off, leaving the braid wrapped tightly, protectivly around the headstone of his best friend. And he did live for that memory....and never forgot.  
  



End file.
